Chapter 72: Apology

It was the only logical explanation.

The history of the Empire dictated that Dark Magic was incredibly rare and necessary to absorb the rampant, toxic buildup of Holy Power.

Holy Power, in its purest, most concentrated form, was a destructive, calcifying force of absolute, blinding ’Light’.

When Julian had stepped onto the balcony at The Golden Stag, Seraphina’s newly awakened, entirely unshielded, and completely untrained Dark Core had reacted to him the same way a drop of water reacts to a white-hot iron skillet.

Julian was a battery of pure Holy energy.

His ’Void’ wasn’t an absence of existence; it was an aura of Light so dense and pure that her Dark Core couldn’t process it.

It was like staring directly into the sun without eyelids.

The ’crawling bugs’ she had felt were the spiritual manifestation of her dark mana violently clashing with his ambient holy mana.

She had collapsed because she hadn’t yet learned how to shield herself.

The Church and the Magic Towers hadn’t taught her because, until a week ago, she was just an orphan.

The Bastion hadn’t taught her because Dark Mages were so rare that nobody outside the highest echelons of the Imperial Spire actually knew how their cores functioned in relation to high-tier Holy Knights.

It wasn’t Julian’s fault.

He hadn’t cast a spell.

He had existed near her, completely unaware of her true affinity, and her body had panicked.

Seeing the good, kind Marquess actively punishing himself, hovering on the periphery of the room like a ghost burdened by sin, made a sharp pang of guilt twist in Seraphina’s chest.

He had tried to save the missing children.

He had offered his entire estate to a terrifying warlord.

And he had just ordered his chef to bake her fifty cookies.

She owed him an apology.

And she needed to fix the misunderstanding.

Later that evening, the guest annex was quiet.

The sun had set, and the lanterns in the courtyard were burning brightly.

Seraphina was sitting in the Duke’s temporary study, curled comfortably in Kaelus’s lap.

The Archduke was reading a heavily encrypted missive from the Northern border, his dark mana wrapping around them like a heavy, comforting, protective blanket.

Within the field of his aura, Seraphina felt completely insulated from the rest of the world.

She was busy folding a piece of stiff, deep blue parchment.

She was employing her origami skills to their limit, meticulously crafting an intricate, multi-layered lotus flower.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

"Enter," Kaelus rumbled, not looking up from his letter.

The door opened, and Marquess Myer stepped inside.

He paused near the threshold, maintaining his self-imposed, respectful distance.

"Kaelus, I have the updated reports from the city guard regarding the—" Julian stopped, his golden eyes falling on the child curled in the Archduke’s lap. He immediately took a small step backward. "My apologies. I did not realize you were occupied. I can return later."

"Stay," Seraphina piped up, her clear voice stopping the Marquess in his tracks.

Kaelus lowered his letter, glancing down at her, then up at Julian.

He didn’t stop her.

Seraphina finished the final fold of the paper lotus.

She hopped off Kaelus’s lap, her small feet hitting the carpet.

Julian instinctively took another step backward, holding his hands up defensively. "Lady Seraphina, please. You shouldn’t exert yourself. I do not wish to cause you any discomfort."

Seraphina didn’t walk all the way to him.

She stopped about three feet away, safely remaining within the edge of Kaelus’s dark, protective aura, which acted as a perfect metaphysical shield against Julian’s ambient Holy Light.

"You don’t make me uncomfortable, Mr. Marquess," Seraphina said clearly, looking up into his wide, golden eyes.

"But at the restaurant..." Julian faltered, his guilt raw and exposed. "You collapsed. The doctors couldn’t explain it, but I know it happened the moment I approached you. I possess a rather dense Holy Core from my days in the Paladin Order. I fear my ambient mana might be toxic to your delicate constitution."

Seraphina shook her head. "It’s not toxic. I just didn’t have my sunglasses on."

Julian blinked, utterly confused. "Sunglasses?"

"Papa says my core is dark," Seraphina explained, using the simplest terms her six-year-old vocabulary could manage without giving away her intellect. "But yours is very, very bright. It was like looking at the sun. It surprised my tummy, and my magic got confused and tried to run away. That’s why it hurt. But it wasn’t your fault."

Julian stared at her, his mind processing the magical theory she was presenting.

It made sense because of the violent rejection of opposed, high-tier cores in an unshielded child.

"You... you possess a Dark Core, My Lady?" Julian breathed, looking past her to Kaelus.

’If she really possessed such an amazing power, shouldn’t it be kept a secret? Was the Duke alright with it?’

The Archduke offered a single, curt nod of confirmation.

The heavy mountain of guilt that had been crushing Julian’s chest for days evaporated instantly.

He hadn’t cursed or harmed her out of malice.

It was a tragic, magical accident of physics.

"I am so sorry I made you feel bad," Seraphina continued, holding her hands behind her back. "You let us stay in your big house, bought a doctor to treat and take care of me, and you bought me the pretty peaches, and you are trying to help the lost kids. You are a very good person, Mr. Marquess."

She took one step forward and held out her hands.

Resting in her small palms was the beautifully crafted, intricate origami lotus flower made of deep blue parchment.

"I made this for you," Seraphina smiled warmly. "To say thank you. And to say I’m sorry for dropping my cake on your table."

Julian Myer looked at the small, paper flower.

The flawless, disciplined, aristocratic Marquess felt his throat close completely.

His vision blurred as a sudden rush of hot tears flooded his golden eyes.

He didn’t care about the risk of a magical clash anymore.